


(un)masked

by museaway



Series: VLD Exchange [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Basically Living Together, Canon Compliant, Costumes, Established Relationship, Flirting with your boyfriend, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Marriage Proposal, VLD Halloween Exchange 2018, season 8 what season 8, this takes place at Halloween but was really just an excuse to write about Shiro proposing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 19:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16455584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/museaway/pseuds/museaway
Summary: When the other paladins reject his costume idea for the Garrison Halloween party, Keith goes to sulk at Shiro's apartment. And it just so happens that Shiro has something he can wear.





	(un)masked

**Author's Note:**

> Set at an ambiguous point after the seventh season when everything has calmed down, everyone is alive, and the paladins are currently living on Earth. 
> 
> Written for Gootbuttheichou for the 2018 Sheith Halloween Exchange. Beta read by ColdFlame and SE1MEI.

It had been thirty-seven hours since the meeting and Keith still didn't see the point in wearing a costume. The party was two days from now. Kids would be there for the candy. No one would care what he had on.

He’d planned on wearing his flight suit, but the team has looked at him like he’d turned violet and grown a tail when he’d mentioned it. Even Allura, who had no cultural equivalent to Halloween and no childhood nostalgia associated with it, was working on a costume. They’d laughed when he suggested he could wear his Blade of Marmora uniform instead.

He went to sulk at Shiro's apartment. He slept there every night and supposed he ought to call it their place by now—Shiro did—but Keith had an irrational fear that the first time the word came out of his mouth, Shiro would change the locks.

He flopped on the couch with a pillow crushed to his chest as though it could soothe his bruised feelings.

“I really wish you would leave your shoes at the door,” Shiro said, unlacing Keith’s boots.

“I know. Sorry.”

“You don't have any costume ideas?”

“I don't see what's wrong with my Blades suit. It's not like the kids will know what it is.”

“What did the others say?”

Keith smothered his face with the pillow and groaned. “Lance said Halloween is an opportunity to be something I've always wanted.”

“Was there something else you wanted to be growing up?”

“Not really.” Keith sighed and peered at him over the top of the pillow. “What are you going as?”

“My Monsters and Mana character.”

“You're gonna wear a cape?”

“A cloak. Hunk’s been helping me make one.”

Keith had an image of the two of them hunched laughing over a sewing machine. “Course he is,” he muttered.

Shiro sighed and sat down on the opposite side of the couch, pulling Keith’s feet onto his lap. “Didn't you go trick-or-treating with your dad when you were younger?”

“Yeah when I was, like, six.”

“Well, what kind of costume did you wear then?”

“It was at the firehouse. I was a firefighter.” Keith dropped the pillow and nudged Shiro’s crotch with his foot. “Why are your clothes still on?”

“I—I thought we were talking.”

Keith took off his shirt. “I can multitask.”

He loved that hungry glint in Shiro’s eyes that meant he was turned on. Keith never saw it any other time. He moved his foot again and raised an eyebrow. Shiro’s hand tightened over his ankle.

“You want to do it out here?” he asked. His voice had gone husky. Game, set, and match to Keith.

“Carry me.”

Shiro’s eyes widened. “Since when do you let me do that?”

“I’m recovering from serious injuries.”

“Oh, I see. In that case...”

He scooped Keith up princess style. A few months ago, Keith might’ve found it humiliating to be carried through the apartment by his boyfriend, but today Keith put his arms around Shiro’s neck and didn’t complain.

“It’s just a costume,” Shiro said kindly, misunderstanding the reason for his clinginess. “It doesn’t have to have any deeper meaning. If you want, you could create a character when we play tomorrow, and—”

“I’m not playing that game.”

“I really think you’d like it.”

“I like that you like it.”

Shiro laid him on the bed and hovered over him. “What do you want me to do?”

Keith reached up to run his fingers through Shiro’s hair. He’d dreamed of doing that since he’d been a kid, and from the time Shiro had come back to them with shoulder-length hair, Keith hadn’t been able to stop himself from touching it—out of comfort at first, then out of habit, even after he’d cut it. The sides were prickly under his fingertips, the longer strands smooth and thick. No different now that it was silver, although Keith sometimes missed the way Shiro’s dark hair had brought out his eyes.

This wasn't the body Shiro had been born into. It had been grown, branded with scars the team would recognize when the Galra sent Shiro back to them, loaded with partial memories and the same voice and the same eyes. Keith hated himself a little for never recognizing it wasn't really his Shiro. He’d been desperate to have him back. But this was his Shiro now, and this body had never known anyone but Keith's hands.

“Make me stop thinking for a while,” Keith said.

“Stop thinking, huh? I’ll see what I can do.”

Shiro stripped off Keith’s pants and got his mouth on him, and Keith’s higher thinking happily switched off.

* * *

There was something novel in lying around in the early evening without worrying they might be called to the bridge or have to pilot a ship half-asleep.

“What do you want to do about dinner?” Keith said into the pillow.

“Let’s order something in. I don’t feel like cooking.”

“That’s cause you suck at it.”

“I’m getting better.” Shiro’s fingers lightly traced the contours of Keith’s back. “Hey...I think I have something you could wear to the party.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

Shiro continued to touch his back for a few seconds. Then Keith heard the nightstand open and Shiro put something hard and square into his hand.

“What’s this?” Keith asked without opening his eyes.

“Take a look.”

He brought it close to his face. The white box opened on a hinge.

“A ring,” Keith said. It wasn't much of a costume unless Shiro was implying Keith was still short enough to be...what was that thing from that series he liked. A hobbit? “What the heck am I supposed to be with this?”

“Uh. My husband?”

That wasn't much of the costume either, but Keith considered it. “Do you think the others would go for that?”

He glanced up when Shiro made a strange noise. He was looking at Keith with a confounded expression, cheeks and ears red, seconds from laughing or maybe bursting into tears. Keith wasn't sure which.

He looked more closely at the ring in his hand. It was made from a metal he didn’t recognize, something dark and polished to a matte finish. He popped it out of the box. It had a good weight and heft to it, was well made. Not costume jewelry. And as he turned it in the light to study the metal more closely, he caught the flash of an inscription on the inside.

_t + k_

Realization crawled up and over him, and Keith went very still. “Is this what I think it is?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to kneel down.”

Keith shook his head. He covered his mouth and breathed into his palm. “No. And yeah. Yes.”

“Yes?” Shiro repeated, voice rising as though he couldn’t quite believe Keith had said it.

Keith nodded vigorously behind his hand. Shiro’s smile was half-hidden by the pillow.

“I was going to ask you on your birthday, but you fell asleep and I lost my nerve.”

“How long have you had this?”

“Since you were in the hospital. I realized if it had been me in there, I would have wanted you to be the one making the calls.” Shiro scratched his head. “I guess that isn’t the most romantic thing to say.”

“I wanted you to be able to stay with me.” Keith slipped the ring on. It fit his finger perfectly—not tight, not loose enough to slip easily over his knuckle. “Hey, when did you…”

“You're a heavy sleeper.”

There was a terrible fondness in Shiro's eyes. Keith might have been afraid of it once. He’d spent so long trying to convince himself to give up on him, that he could only think of Shiro as family, that it seemed impossible he could be the one in bed beside him now, that Keith was the one with this ring on his finger and not…

“Is this supposed to be an engagement ring? Should I keep it on?”

“Only if you want.”

“Shiro.” Keith looked him in the eye. “Do you want me to wear it?”

“Yes.”

With the ring on his hand, he launched himself at a blushing, gasping Shiro. They’d kissed so many times, there was nothing new about the way they were kissing now, and yet it was unlike everything they’d done up until this point. Shiro held him more closely than usual, the way he had the night he’d woken up from the healing pod.

“Do the others know?” Keith asked.

“They know I was thinking about it. I wasn't sure when to ask you.”

“What about my mom?”

“We talked about it. I wanted to know if there were any Galra customs I needed to respect.”

“So you asked my mom for my hand in marriage?”

“We had coffee,” Shiro said.

Shiro was warm. Keith burrowed into his chest. “What did she say?”

“She said you were lucky to find such a good guy.”

“Shut up,” Keith laughed and nipped his shoulder.

His dad had worn a ring sometimes. Keith had never understood why. His mom was gone. But now that he had one on his own hand, he thought he got it. The fear that this thing between them might one day dry up, that was gone. It was ridiculous that a piece of metal could give him that sense of security, but like his blade it held meaning.

He pardoned all those love songs he used to make fun of and reached under the covers for Shiro's hand. “Guess I need to get you one.”

“I may have been overly optimistic and ordered a matching set.”

“You just figured I'd say yes?”

“I know you pretty well.”

“Is yours engraved?”

“Just yours.”

“I’ll think of something.” Keith touched Shiro’s face with his left hand and watched the way Shiro’s eyes brightened when the ring grazed his cheek. What a simple thing. What a stupidly simple thing.

* * *

Veronica had spearheaded the effort to transform the Garrison lounge into a haunted house. The overhead lights were dimmed. Orange bulbs flickered in tall, black candelabras on either side of the entrance. They dripped with cobwebs. Around the perimeter of the main room, eerie blue and green lights cast their faces into sickly hues. Fog crawled from a point toward the back of the room and swallowed Keith’s ankles.

Veronica met them at the entrance with a tablet in hand and gave him a thorough once-over.

“You’re late,” Veronica said.

Keith stared at her. “The party doesn’t start for…” He checked his watch. “Twelve minutes.”

“And I said to arrive thirty minutes prior. Captain?”

“Wardrobe malfunction,” Shiro said, holding up the edge of his cloak crimped by the car door.

“I see.” She tapped her screen. “I was going to have one of you supervise the digital pumpkin carving, but when I thought you weren’t coming, I assigned someone else. You can give out the candy.”

Keith thought he spotted Hunk through the fog on the opposite side of the room. “Fill Shiro in on the details. I’m gonna say hi to everyone.”

“No time. You can talk after. Follow me.” She led them to the corner of the room farthest from the food tables. “One scoop per bag. The rest of the candy is underneath this table. No one touches it but the two of you.”

“Can't Lance do this? There’s gotta be something less...social.”

“Lance would eat more than he gives away,” Veronica said. “I hope I can trust you.”

She was dressed as a vampire. The hair slicked back from her forehead made her look eerily like her younger brother. Keith spotted him in a haze of artificial fog, sporting a pair of fuzzy ears and a cloak and a satchel around his waist.

“What are you supposed to be, a wolf?”

“I'm a thief,” Lance said, sounding injured because Keith didn't know the finer points of the fictional world everyone else was so fascinated by. He always made it a point to be busy on game night. Lance approached them and gave Keith a good once over. “You’re in jeans.”

“Yep.”

“Keith, I thought we talked about this! Shiro, weren't you going to help him?”

“He did,” Keith said. “This is my costume.”

Lance scoffed. “What the heck are you supposed to be?”

Keith held up his left hand and pointed his right thumb at Shiro. “I’m his husband.”

“How is that a costume?”

“Hey, you’re the one who told me to dress up as something I wanted to be. And I’ve wanted to be that since I was sixteen.”

“I'm sorry,” Shiro said. “I didn't think it would be his entire costume.”

“Why didn't you tell him to change?” Veronica said.

“I think it's sweet?”

“You're hopeless,” Lance said. “But your cloak looks good. ‘Course, anything looks good next to Keith because he's _wearing jeans_!”

“Hey, I've got my Blades uniform in the car. I can go put it on,” Keith said.

Lance threw up his hands. “I give up.”

“Lance,” Veronica said sharply. “You're in charge of bobbing for apples. Go to your station.”

“Just like when we were kids. Happy freakin’ Halloween.” Lance flicked his fake ears and stomped off. Veronica followed.

Shiro laughed into a cup of cider he’d conjured from...somewhere. He offered Keith a sip. It was slightly tart.

“You've wanted to marry me since you were sixteen, huh?”

Keith’s mouth twitched. “Don't let it go to your head.”

Guests began to fill the room. All off-duty Garrison personnel had been invited, as well as area families and aid workers from other planets. Within a few minutes of the doors opening, the lobby became so full Keith couldn't see to the other side, and the noise from so many people talking made it difficult to hear the vintage Halloween songs his dad used to play at the firehouse.

“You okay?” Shiro said. “You’ve got a strange look on your face.”

“Just thinking about my pop. He would have loved this.”

“I wish I could have met him.”

“I wish you could too.”

Once kids realized Keith and Shiro were the bearers of the candy, they rushed them in droves. Shiro was extravagant in princely regalia. The cloak that he and Hunk had made cascaded over his shoulders, and the front of his hair was held back by a silver crown, exposing his forehead. Even the way he spoke was different, a little slower and exceptionally polite. The kids were charmed. Shiro knelt down on the floor to speak with most of them, sometimes whipping out the huge sword on his back for photographs, and Keith doled out the candy in rationed handfuls to avoid Veronica’s wrath.

There was a kid in every group that demanded to know what his costume was supposed to be. And unlike Lance, they were all satisfied by his answer. Shiro was the guy to marry. He’d worn his matching ring (hidden in the coat closet Keith never opened) and would hold his hand up every time Keith gave his answer.

With so many kids (and curious adults) coming up to talk with them, the evening passed quickly. A little past nine, Hunk escaped the catering station and snuck over to them. He grabbed Keith’s hand and raised it to his face.

“It’s just like you described, Shiro. Dark, not too shiny. Just like Keith.”

“Uh...thanks?” Keith said.

Hunk was dressed as a monk, maybe, in long robes and a skull cap, with a long goatee tied into a few sections.

“I know it's probably a ways off,” he said. “I'm not trying to pressure you—I know how stressful these things can be—but I would be grateful if you would consider having me and Sal cater the wedding. You can sample some of our creations here this evening. They're along that wall.”

“We wouldn't hire anyone else,” Shiro said.

Hunk grinned. “I wonder if you could get Veronica to plan it? She seems cut out for this sort of thing.” He glanced over his shoulder and winced. “Oh crap—I think she saw me. I have to get back. Congratulations to you both.”

“She runs a tight ship,” Shiro said.

“At least she let us give out the candy together.”

“It’s probably because your costume doesn’t make sense out of context.” Shiro cleared his throat. “Hey...you remember when we were stranded on that planet and you were trying to get to me?”

“You think I could forget that?” Keith hissed. “You wouldn't stop talking about _dying_. It scared the hell out of me. How come you're bringing that up now?”

Shiro shrugged. “Those creatures might have made an interesting costume.”

“Oh. Maybe next year.”

With a gallant smile, Shiro gave a handful of candy to a pint-sized ghoul that had approached them. It was easy to tell when he was faking a good mood. Those smiles never reached his eyes.

The ghoul called him Shiro. She knew him from television. The ones behind her (a zombie and a robot and some sort of fantastic creature from another game Keith didn't know the first thing about) crowded around Shiro’s legs and asked Keith to take their picture.

“You know, _that’s_ the guy you should be taking your picture with” Shiro told them and pointed at Keith. “He’s the Black Paladin.”

“No way,” the zombie said to Keith. “Where’s your bayard?”

“Safe and sound. Here’s your phone back.”

The robot’s face was obscured, but Keith could feel the kid staring.

“Why didn’t you just wear your paladin flight suit?”

“See? Thank you,” Keith said. “Someone who thinks like I do.”

“An eight-year-old,” Pidge said as she went past with a basket of apples. Her armor was so clunky Keith didn't recognize her apart from her voice. “By the way, congratulations! Lance told me. Can I be in your wedding? You are having a wedding, right? Hey, let’s all get ice cream after this! I want to see the ring.”

“How much sugar have you had?” Keith called.

“Not enough!”

“Great.” At least they were off duty tomorrow.

The kids were staring up at him.

“Happy Halloween,” Shiro told them and Keith waved as they got lost in the fog.

“Listen...” he said, picking up their earlier conversation. “Being stuck on that planet together was the first time I ever felt like maybe I could take care of you. Up until that point, it was always you bailing me out. You didn’t need me for anything.”

“That’s not true. Even before I left, you were a great friend. You have no idea how—Hey, Happy Halloween!”

Another group of kids had encircled them. Shiro doled out candy and Keith endured another round as photographer.

“How long do we have to stand here?” he asked in the lapse between groups.

“Another half hour.”

“My back’s killing me.”

One benefit of having a boyfriend— _fiancé_ —with a detached, floating prosthesis was that he could rub Keith’s back without moving positions. It had taken a couple weeks to get used to the weird factor, but they’d been able to get up to some pretty acrobatic positions and Keith wasn’t exactly complaining.

“What were you about to say before?” he asked.

“Oh. Just that...before Kerberos, everyone was determined to tell me what I should do. You were the only one who asked what I wanted. That might not seem like a big deal, but to me it was huge. So, thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.”

Shiro’s hand settled at his waist. “When we were stranded, I was in pain and it was getting cold. I didn’t think I’d make it through the night, and all I could think about was that I wanted you to be the one holding me when I died. It's not the same as falling in love at sixteen, but in case you were wondering, I've been thinking about you for a while.”

Keith’s breath caught and he looked up at him, unable to speak, tugging at the clasp on Shiro’s cloak until he lowered his head enough that Keith could kiss him. It wasn’t often he did something like that outside, but if anyone asked, he’d claim it was part of the costume.

“You wanna head home after this or go out with everybody? Pidge said something about ice cream.”

“Home?” Shiro repeated, a little starry-eyed.

“Yeah. You know, that place where we sleep.”

“You always call it my apartment.”

“It _is_ your apartment.” He kissed Shiro again. “Hey, tomorrow...leave the ring on, okay?”

There was a new look in Shiro’s eyes. He didn’t say anything for a breath, then fit his hand to Keith’s cheek. “Okay. Would you want a ceremony?”

“I think Hunk would be upset if we didn't have one.”

“I think they’d all be upset. But you'll actually have to dress up.”

“My flight suit’s white,” Keith said.

“You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

“Sure you want a lifetime of that?”

“Well, considering we live together, and that I bought you a ring and asked you to marry me, yes. I hope you'll be a pain in my ass for the rest of my life.”

“You never asked,” Keith said.

“Oh, so you _did_ want me to kneel. Good thing I practiced.”

Realizing his mistake, Keith scrambled for a hold on Shiro’s arm, his chest, anything to keep him standing. “Nono, no—you don't have to. Shiro. Shiro—”

But it was too late. Shiro had already extended a leg and lowered into a kneeling stance, sweeping his cloak behind his back and lifting his chin. He grandly raised an arm, and in a booming voice that echoed over the music to the four corners of the room, turning heads in their direction, said Keith’s name.

* * *

Pidge and Hunk were still reenacting the proposal an hour later over banana splits. Lance laughed so hard he spit ice cream onto Allura, but since she was doubled over and dabbing tears away with the corner of a napkin, she didn't appear to mind.

Keith hadn't stopped blushing since they’d ordered, but his embarrassment was lost in the happy expression on Shiro's face as he offered Keith the last spoonful with his left hand.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt: _I like the idea of the Paladins having a costume party and handing out candy to trick or treaters, it could be paranormal too (ie, one of them’s a vampire, another a werewolf, etc)_
> 
> I love Halloween and sheith, so this was so much fun! Thank you to Gootbuttheichou for the prompt and to you for reading. [I live on twitter](https://twitter.com/museawayfic) if you would like to say hello (honestly, please come say hi! I need more sheith friends). ♥


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